


Greed

by Mother_North



Series: Heartache [9]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angry Kissing, Angst and Feels, M/M, Psychological Drama, Rivalry, pre-sochi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25690738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mother_North/pseuds/Mother_North
Summary: He always wanted it all and he was ready to swear by his own life that he will get what he desires.
Relationships: Javier Fernández/Yuzuru Hanyu
Series: Heartache [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1090485
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Greed

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: Pre-Sochi Olys.
> 
> RPF disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and it is not meant to offend anyone. It is a product of author’s imagination only. All thoughts, actions and emotions described below have nothing to do with reality.

*

Young blood is singing in his veins and he is _greedy_. Impossibly so.

Yuzuru is eyeing the ice as if it is a battlefield, as if it is his temple. He is torn by a conflicting desire to conquer it and to touch it with utmost reverence – the coldness under his fingertips is electrifying, it sets his whole being on fire, heart thumping inside his ribcage threatening to burst it into pieces. He is at once intimidated and thrilled, adrenaline dissolving in his bloodstream as he is gaining speed rapidly in a couple of smooth, powerful strokes across the ice, his black blades leaving indecipherable writings at their wake. He likes to study the patterns his skating boots have carved into the ice-rink, as if they hold some secret meaning.

The smiley man touches his shoulder, his hand branding Yuzuru’s skin through the thin fabric of his training attire. He turns around, startled.

Javier coughs, blushing a little.

“Hey, you’ve been staring at the ice for the whole fifteen minutes already! I was just wondering if you are ok?”

There is genuine concern in Javi’s voice and there is liquid warmth in his honey-brown eyes.

“Yes, I was just…studying…No! Learning… the ice. It tells different things if you listen,” Yuzuru realizes that he must be sounding awkward as hell.

He hates English with vehemence. Necessary words tend to escape him whenever he is desperately searching for them, afraid to appear retarded or to sound shallow. He speaks with a slight stutter, his cheeks heating up from the embarrassment. Javier probably finds him to be just some weird but nevertheless extremely cute kid, who requires special attention of his older and more experienced training partner. He never fails to come to Yuzuru and ask whether he is in need of any assistance, his hand finding its way to his thin shoulder or to his tiny waist to place on it protectively.

Yuzuru thinks that Javier’s main problem is that he is excessively _kind_. He doesn’t let their direct rivalry mar the brightness of his smile. He lets Yuzuru study his quad salchow carefully and he is eager to watch with intent eyes: analyzing the entry and the axis, the position of a body in the air and a crisp and precise landing.

“It’s _his_ jump but I’ll get it too,” Yuzuru thinks firmly, thriving at the prospect of a challenge. “Will be _mine_ one day...”

His mother knows Yuzuru like no other and she notices him staring at his training partner through the course of practice, his complexion rosy from exhaustion and eyes glinting with candid excitement.

Yumi takes a deep breath before starting a conversation with her son on their drive home from the Cricket Club.

“I want to ask you something, Yuzu. Do you like training with Javier-san? Is it comfortable for you?”

Yuzuru is looking in the car window, buildings and trees flying by. A thin crease appears on his high forehead as he furrows his brow, surprised by his mother’s unexpected question.

“Yes and no. I like watching him, especially his quad salchow. It helps me with my image training a lot. I am sure I’ll be able to jump just as good as him one day and I need this as a weapon in order to win…” Yuzuru fell silent midsentence, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.

“But…” Yumi threw a glance at him, knowing there’s more to come.

“But I can’t shake off a feeling that he wants something from me too. Why would he be so good to me? He looks like he cares and it scares me. Aren’t we the two archrivals? He helps me to get up after a fall. He constantly keeps asking if I am ok and whether I need something… He acts as if he sees me as his little brother and not a dangerous competitor who wants the same gold medals. It confuses me. Sometimes I catch him watching as if he is awaiting something from me, something _specific_ …”

Yumi frowned.

“Maybe you are reading too much into it…”

“I think he likes me,” Yuzuru blurted, feeling incredibly awkward.

Yumi’s eyes widened and she gasped.

“What do you mean?! Like a man?!”

“Yes,” Yuzuru nodded. “I’ve analyzed his behavior, the little details and his body language. His eyes linger as do his hands. He _like_ s me. I am absolutely sure. It is interesting because he has a girlfriend but I can’t mistake his interest for something else. I feel his gaze raking over my body...”

Yumi shook her head, momentarily at loss. Yuzuru sounded casual and almost matter-of-factly as if he was simply announcing a new layout for his next free skate program.

_Unperturbed._

It seemed a little scary in its cold detachment.

“I’ll talk to Brian-sensei and if it makes you uncomfortable…”

“Don’t you dare!” growled Yuzuru, his intense dark eyes boring into his mother’s shocked face. Yumi wasn’t used to such outbursts of temper from her mostly collected and calm son.

“Sorry,” added Yuzuru quickly, his features softening. “I’ll deal with this myself. You don’t need to worry, okaa-san. I am not a child anymore. I’ll find the best solution.”

*

That night Yuzuru couldn’t fall asleep for a long time, tossing in his bed, his skin cold and clammy from sweat. Thoughts were circling in his mind in a never-ending vicious loop. Photographic images of scary vividness that he couldn’t get rid of were infiltrating his tired brain.

 _Sochi Olympics_ and him standing at the top of the pedestal, Javier looking up at him with the bronze medal hanging around his neck; his smile was wistful but the next moment he burst out with laughter and Yuzuru felt him tickling his waist. It seemed inappropriate at the podium of the Olympic Games and in his strange dream Yuzuru felt scandalized. In the vision of his he pursed his lips sternly, as if readying to reprimand his training partner for his childish behavior but Javier only kept on smiling and smiling and suddenly Yuzuru couldn’t stand looking at him anymore – his own composure cracking, eyes scrunching up and lips starting to tremble.

“Stop it immediately,” he hissed, trying to blink away the unshed tears.

Javier squeezed his waist harder, his hand wrapped possessively around it. Yuzuru’s heart was beating wildly in his throat and the blue ribbon of the golden medal suddenly became unbearably tight, choking him, its weight threatening to break his neck.

“Javi… help me,” he managed to croak with a strangled voice.

Javier beamed at him, seemingly unaware that something is wrong.

“It’s going to be fine, Yuzu. We’ll always be together. I know you don’t want me but it doesn’t matter because _I_ want you and _you_ know it. You do, don’t you?”

“Please…” Yuzuru managed to breathe out.

Javier gave Yuzuru a quick peck on his pale cheek, looking genuinely amused and Yuzuru felt himself drowning, waters closing in above his head, his vision darkening as he kept on sinking lower and lower.

He woke up from his nightmare with a jolt, sitting up on the bed and breathing heavily, a terrified scream dying on his lips.

The following morning Yuzuru arrived at the ice-rink uncharacteristically late. He had dark shadows beneath his eyes and needed far more time to adapt to the sensation of the ice than usual, his limbs uncoordinated and focus slipping away. He cursed his inability to get a grip of himself, weakness spreading through his whole body, as he covered his ears, struggling to get rid of the incessant buzzing noise inside his head. Yuzuru was at the verge of a nervous breakdown after a particularly nasty fall from his beloved triple axel. He was lying on his back, coldness of the ice sipping through his black attire, as it became soaked.

Everything felt incorrigibly _wrong._

Javier bent over him, worry spilled over his countenance. He gently took Yuzuru by the wrist, aiming to help him to get up.

“Are you alright, Yuzu? That looked painful.”

Yuzuru freed his arm from Javier’s grasp pointedly, making a stubborn effort to stand up on his own.

Brian’s voice reached him across the expanse of the ice-rink.

“I think it is enough for today, Yuzu! Wrap it up!”

Yuzuru nodded. He touched the slippery white surface with his fingertips before practically running to the locker-room. It was deserted, other skaters continuing their practice session. Yuzuru was grateful for the privacy; he needed to stay away from the prying eyes (even though everyone pretended not to stare, deep down inside he was sure they were – seeing his weakness, seeing that he was on the edge of losing it badly, the smallest tremor of his hands and how he was lying on the ice, defeated and crushed and not wanting to get up), it filled him with irrational fury and a keen awareness of his own impotency and uselessness.

His triple axel has deserted him. The blasted quadruple salchow was far from being cooperative, failing him again and again. Yuzuru yanked down his tight practice leggings to inspect the bruises tattooing the smooth, pale skin of his hip; a one more cruel testimony to his failure.

His imagination was playing tricks on him, as if mocking him ruthlessly – at the back of his closed eyelids he was seeing Javier soaring into the air, his axis remaining perfect throughout the four revolutions, elbows put tightly to his torso in a textbook position and a beautiful clean landing leaving a deep scar on the ice as he landed his trademark quad salchow inside Yuzuru’s agitated mind.

His anxiousness was growing exponentially.

_“What if I am not good enough? What if I would lose? What if he beats me at the Olympics?”_

Yuzuru was sitting on the bench, staring at the opposite wall with unseeing eyes.

_“I need to do something…I need to do something…”_

Yuzuru was so immersed in his own thoughts, he didn’t register the sound of the locker door being at first opened and then closed with a squeak.

“Hey, Yuzu…It’s me,” said Javier quietly as he carefully approached the hunched, fragile figure.

His voice jerked Yuzuru from his eerie reverie.

“Hey…” His lips barely moved.

Javier was standing in front of him; his sweat-drenched t-shirt clinging to his body, unruly curls sticking out at all sides. He didn’t dare to sit next to Yuzuru, preferring to keep the distance between them. He didn’t want to invade Yuzuru’s personal space, as if he was dealing with a cornered animal. Javier had never seen Yuzuru in a state like this before – unhinged and distressed and painfully vulnerable.

He wanted to find out a reason behind Yuzuru’s apparent frustration but was afraid to worsen the situation with some badly chosen word or carelessly used phrase which could potentially offend Yuzuru. He was searching for the right things to say for a couple of minutes, his eyes wandering over Yuzuru’s appearance: glassy eyes, a thin sheen of perspiration covering his glowing face and neck, dainty fingers clenched.

The bruising at the hip made Javier’s breath catch in his throat, the ugly red began turning violet against the ivory-white skin.

He licked his suddenly dry lips.

“What’s going on with you, Yuzu? It’s just a shitty practice, it happens to everyone from time to time? You know. There’s no need to be so harsh to yourself. Tomorrow is a new day and…”

Yuzuru didn’t let him finish, interrupting Javier, his voice raising.

“Why are you acting like this with me?! I am _your_ rival! I want _your_ medals! I want _your_ quad salchow! I want to defeat you! Only gold counts! I need that medal in Sochi and it will be mine! You’ll never get it! I’ve bet my life on it! Don’t you understand?!”

Yuzuru stood up to look Javier directly in the eye. Their faces were so close Javier could sense Yuzuru’s breath ghosting over his lips.

“Yuzu, what are you talking about? We are competitors – it’s true but we are not mortal enemies who want to cut each other’s throats any moment. You are fierce and very ambitious and constantly eager to learn and it is perfectly fine. It’s the right thing to do! You are watching me at practices and I don’t mind at all…I really don’t, I swear! But I can assure you that beating me won’t be easy and I’ll do my best not to let you win over me! Believe me!”

Javier shook his head, a weak yet reassuring smile curving his mouth.

“Please, Yuzu, just calm down! Brian is worried and he doesn’t want the two of his best pupils fight!”

Something _predatory_ swept over Yuzuru’s countenance, as he took Javier’s face between his hands and kissed him frantically – forceful and desperate, with all of the repressed anger and profound confusion he had in him, his teeth tearing at Javier’s lips painfully until he tasted blood.

Javier was caught completely off guard, unable to move or make a sound. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that Yuzuru initiated the first kiss and it was far from anything he had ever let himself to imagine in his dreams – it contained bitterness but not an ounce of tenderness; it scarred and burned and Javier was shaken by the sheer audacity of Yuzuru’s act: his tongue moving inside his mouth domineering and bold, unnerving him to no end so that Javier sensed he was ready to collapse on the floor, his trembling knees refusing to hold his bodyweight.

He felt trapped in a feverish dream.

“Stop! What the hell, Yuzu?!”

At last Javier found it in him to shove Yuzuru away, the violent assault on his mouth leaving him gasping for air. His lips were bruised and strangely numb.

Yuzuru’s fury seemingly subsided and he took a shaky step back, his own lips obscenely kiss-swollen, cheeks burning and hair disheveled.

“I thought you wanted it…” he mumbled.

Javier’s eyelid twitched.

“Yes…but – _no_! Dammit! Not like _this_!” he turned away from Yuzuru, unable to withstand his unflinching gaze any longer. Somehow he felt like a criminal that was caught at the crime scene upon committing a homicide. He touched his lips disbelievingly, acutely aware of Yuzuru’s bottomless pupils drilling into his skull from behind.

“Do you hate me now?” Yuzuru sounded wounded, his voice cracking with emotion.

_I love you, foolish boy._

“I don’t know…I think it’s better for me to leave now, Yuzu.”

“Tell me, Javi! Do you hate me now?”

Yuzuru’s bony fingers closed around Javier’s wrist. He tried to shake his hand off but Yuzuru’s grasp was surprisingly strong.

“I have no idea why you are doing this to me, Yuzu… I think we are going to leave it as it is for now. I need to sort everything out properly or to at least try… and you’d better learn how to think with the little pretty head of yours before acting out, ok?”

Yuzuru watched Javier collect his belongings, his fingers shivering as he was unlacing his skating boots swiftly.

“One day we’ll be standing at the Olympic pedestal together, Javi, and I’ll be _the_ _winner_.”

Javier chose not to answer, the door of the locker-room closing behind him with a quiet thud.

Yuzuru heaved a sigh.

“Someday you’ll see for yourself, Javi. The gold is mine and so is your quad sal. I’ll get your soul and body too. Never ever underestimate me.”

Yuzuru was fully aware of his insatiable greed. He always wanted it all and he was ready to swear by his own life that he will get what he desires.

*


End file.
